“You’ll call Doctor Walker tomorrow?” His question was punctuated by a great flash and nearly simultaneous blast of thunder.
“Yes!” she cried as she jumped, suddenly tense again. “Yes,” she repeated in a more normal voice. The storm had slowed for a few minutes but seemed to pick up in intensity again, the rain lashing against the window in a hissing rush. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Clay squeezed her. “Good. And, Lily,” he murmured as he brushed the long locks of her hair away from her face and her shoulders, “I’ll never, ever push you out into a storm, no matter what.” She melted against him, embarrassed that she’d needed that verbal reassurance.
Lily shifted in his arms, getting more comfortable, and closed her eyes, focusing on his body heat permeating her flannel pajamas. She stilled when she felt the stiff ridge of his cock against her inner thigh, and her body reacted ferociously, arousal igniting a deep ache in her pussy.
Just for tonight she wished she could give in to the feelings she denied concerning him. He was her friend…and her boss. She didn’t want to chance destroying that relationship on a whim, but there was no denying that she wanted him.
Clay’s warm lips pressed against her cheekbone, and she became aware of his strong hands stroking her. He’d been holding her very close the whole time they’d talked. Now he was silent, but his hands spoke volumes as he wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her to him.
He stroked her shoulder with one hand and the other hand traveled up and down her ribcage and her back. Little shivers zinged up her spine as his fingertips deliberately caressed in a sweeping arc from her shoulder blade to the top of her ass. She stifled a groan and bit her lip when her pussy quivered as though his touch had a direct line to that part of her. On the next pass of his hand, her head fell back and he took advantage, pressing lingering kisses to the column of her throat. A soft whimper escaped her lips.
Clay whispered, “I don’t know why he treated such a precious, loving woman so cruelly. I’d be obsessed with caring for you…Loving you.”
“Clay,” she murmured, placing her hands on his shoulders to stop him as he rolled her to her back. The broad expanse of his shoulders and torso blocked the flashes of lightning as his lips descended to hers. His first touch was gentle, tentative as he brushed against her, sending another flurry of tingles down her spine as they shared a breath.
She spoke before her dwindling resistance fled completely. “Clay, you’re my boss. We shouldn’t. I’m not—I’m…” Your friend. Your employee. Not what you need. Not whole. In love with you.
“You’re…beautiful. Strong. Caring. What I want. What I need.”
She clutched his shoulders to stop him as he pressed tender kisses to her collarbone. Did he know how that spot sent a jolt of pure lust through her center, straight to her clit? “No, Clay. I’m too much work. I’m…damaged.”
Clay made a negative sound in his throat and persisted, his lips creating a tingling path up to her ear. Her resistance to his spell fled when she shifted and her flannel-covered leg slid against the bare, naked flesh of his thigh and buttocks.
“You’re naked,” she squeaked and felt foolish for pointing out the obvious.
Lily could hear the amusement in his voice when he replied, “Every night.” His breath left him in a quiet rush as her small movements accidentally pressed her mound against his steely cock. “I’ll stop if you want me to, Lily, but the truth is I want you. I want to make you feel good. I want to make it better.”
He didn’t persist in his advances, didn’t take what he wanted regardless of her desires, and Lily was unsure what to do. She bit her lip.
I want you, too.
The rain continued driving outside, but the lightning and thunder appeared to be dwindling again.
He lifted his lips from her throat, and she felt his warm breath against her forehead in the pitch black of his bedroom. His face was lit for a split second by a dwindling flash of lightning, and she was held spellbound by the need in his languorous eyes. The overwhelming desire to give in to him, give him whatever he wanted, filled her, and she lifted her palms to his cheeks as he waited, unmoving.
She was supposed to be moving forward and reclaiming her life. Rising from the ashes like the bronze phoenix statue Clay had sculpted with his own hands. The room was completely dark now, so he’d never see the tattoo. She could give in this once and satisfy the craving that had been intensifying in her for a month. Her awareness of him as a man and not only as a friend had grown with each passing hour they’d spent in each other’s company.